Betrayal of the Light
by KayDrew
Summary: This is a tag to 5X02. It's an AU version of the story. What if Morgana captured Merlin in the caves instead of fleeing? What if she used him? Written by Numb3rsfan and myself. Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

Shivering, he stands in the firelight cave. Dark, long shadows cascade over the walls, created twisted and haunted images. It felt like they were externalizing his thoughts and fears. For a brief moment, Merlin feared his magic was doing something odd and indeed the shadows were contorting to his mind.

Aithusa's broken body and spirit weighed heavily on Merlin. It was wrong that the once majestic beast couldn't speak and was so traumatized. What had happened? The warlock wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and in the frigid air; they froze, making the skin burn. Blinking, Merlin's eyes nearly froze together. He was sure a few eyelashes stuck to his cheeks.

Shaking his head, he wandered back the way he had come. He had to find Arthur and Gwaine; they must regroup with the others and get out of the caves and get back to Camelot. Hearing voices up ahead, Merlin slowed down. Recognizing the King's voice and that of Morgana's mocking words, panic and dread filled his heart.

"You are right to cower before my hand. I am more powerful than you can ever imagine."

"And yet with all that you choose to do nothing but hate." That had been Arthur; Merlin could hear the pain and exhaustion in his King's voice and it made him quicken his steps.

"Uther taught me well. Goodbye Arthur Pendragon."

Nearing the corner that led in to the next chamber the young warlock yelled out "Arthur!" He reached the edge, looking down to find Arthur down on the floor bleeding from several wounds to his side. Standing over the injured King was Morgana and Mordred who had his sword drawn and pointed at Merlin. Even as the raven-haired man looked up he was in no position to defend himself and could do nothing before Morgana lifted her hand and threw him against the stone wall.

Merlin screamed as his head cracked. The warlock felt the warm lifeblood trickle down his back, but it gave him no comfort, even though all Merlin really wanted was warmth. It made cold chills go up his spine and goosebumps cover his arms. With rapid flickers of his eyelashes, Merlin tried to keep himself from falling into unconsciousness. But, it was hard.

His head pounded with pain; darkness closing in all around him beckoning him closer, calling him to sleep. He must sleep, he must rest; his body is calling for it and yet blurred movement and voices nearby were enough to hold him back. It was Morgana bidding her brother goodbye but even as she began to voice the spell that would kill Camelot's beloved King, Mordred had moved up behind her and knifed her in the back.

Merlin, who had had his hand raised; trying to work up the strength to voice a spell to protect Arthur, dropped his suddenly heavy hand to the ground as Morgana fell and lay still. "Arthur…" he whispered, watching through blurry eyes as Mordred picked up the King's unconscious form and carried him out. That was the last thing the warlock saw before he lost consciousness.

XoXoXoXo

Aithusa came padding in to the chamber, so obviously filled with concern over her mistress and caretaker. Morgana was in many ways the dragon's one true friend. She was the only one that cared enough to look after the young dragon. When Aithusa saw Morgana's unmoving body she let out a wail that seemed to fill the caves. It was clear she was in distress at seeing her caretaker so close to death.

Stepping up next to the sorceress's body, Aithusa simply breathed on her and then began to nudge her. It took only a moment before Morgana groaned and then opened her eyes; smiling when she saw who had saved her. "Thank you Aithusa," she whispered, holding a pale hand out to stroke the dragon's head.

Mordred stumbled back into the cave. A slight guilty look was in his eyes for what he did. Even though it had been part of the plan, the druid teenager didn't like it. His head was bent and he was trying to wipe Arthur's blood off of his gloved-hands. Hearing Morgana, he looked up.

"Morgana," he squeaked. "I-I am sorry. But, it seemed to work. I told them that Merlin was dead. They believed it for the most part. They are too worried about Arthur and Gwaine to see for themselves."

Going over to the body, the boy bent down and pressed two fingers to the side of Merlin's neck. He had to make sure Merlin lived. Feeling the pulse, he sighed with relief. "He's alive," whispered the boy.

A little unsteadily Morgana managed to climb to her feet, using the rock wall to help steady herself. If Mordred had knifed her out of spite, she would have wasted no time in killing him, but it had been her idea in the first place so even though her back felt like it was on fire, she couldn't blame the teen.

"You did well Mordred. While I would have preferred to see Arthur dead, Merlin is an acceptable consolation prize," Morgana replied.

Mordred sighed. He had been afraid Morgana would've been displeased with the action, even if she had instructed him to stab her. Mordred didn't really want to see Arthur dead. The King had, after all, saved his life when he had been but a little boy. He felt indebted to the man.

"His demise will come," replied the man. "Don't worry Morgana. Without Merlin in his presence, he surely will fall swiftly."

"I must go, Morgana. They want me to accompany them," said Mordred but the turbaned teenager didn't move. He didn't want to leave her – he'd just found her after all.

"Don't worry, Mordred, I'll look after her," said a new voice as he entered the cave. Moving the hood of his cloak, Tristan looked over at Morgana and smiled. He then glanced at the unconscious form of Merlin. _And Merlin_, he added to himself.

Pursing his lip Mordred nodded his head, rising to his feet once more. "You take care of her." he warned in a tone of voice that said he would come after the man if something were to befall Morgana, before he walked off to rejoin the group of Knights who would be taking Arthur back to Camelot.

"I will, don't worry," the man promised. After Mordred had gone, Tristan bent down and picked Merlin's limp body up, cradling him in his arms. "Shall we depart?" he asked, knowing that it was possible a Knight or two could return to find Merlin even if they believed him dead. Arthur would be distraught that was for sure but he would want a proper burial for his friend and that meant someone would have to come if just to collect the body.

"Not yet." Morgana replied, stroking Aithusa's head. "Someone will return looking for him," she then smirked a little, "Let's give them something to find."

Tristan frowned. "Like what? If they see us or Merlin, your plan won't work," asked the man with a cock of his head.

Morgana walked over to Merlin and knelt down beside the young man. She reached into his pocket and pulled out his red neckerchief, holding it up for Tristan to see. "We'll give them someone only it won't be Merlin but the body will be so burned and unrecognizable that they think it will be him," Morgana said.

She rose to her feet after instructing Tristan to grab the boy's unconscious form. This was going to be so sweet. If she couldn't hurt her dear brother one way she would hurt him in another. Morgana knew Arthur's true feelings for his manservant; theirs was a relationship well beyond the normal master/servant camaraderie. If Arthur thought that Merlin was dead then he would be devastated and more vulnerable and Camelot? It would be just too easy to take.

The walk back to the main chamber didn't take too long. It was where all of the slaves; including the Knights had slept and worked. Now all that was left were the dead bodies of some of the Saxons who had been working for her. Almost immediately she found one that would do nicely. He was as tall as Merlin; same build and hair color. The eyes were brown instead of blue but a simple spell changed that rather quickly.

Morgana tied Merlin's red neckerchief to the dead guard's neck in the same style and fashion that the manservant usually tied it. "Light a fire," the High Priestess instructed. "Someone will return for him soon."

Tristan watched with wide eyes. When she asked him to light a fire, he grabbed one of the torches from the wall. Thrusting it under the wood that the dead man's body rested on, the man watched the body become engulfed with flames. Wordlessly, he put the torch back.

The shouts of a man echoed towards them. "I've got to find him!"

"He's dead, Gwaine," another man called. "And you're hurt. You need to rest."

"Not until I see his body and take him home for a proper burial, Leon," said the man named Gwaine. His voice was filled with strife. "He deserves it."

Tristan turned to Morgana. "We ought to go," said the man. He went over to Merlin and picked up his light body. "Come on before we're found."

Morgana nodded her head agreeing with the suggestion to leave. She wanted to see the look on Gwaine's face but it wouldn't do if they were caught. Then again she did have magic and she did have Aithusa so even if they were caught she could easily dispatch those in her way, but still…if those men saw Merlin then the deception wouldn't work.

"Follow me," she said, leading the way further in to the cave. She must find Aithusa first and she knew exactly where her friend would be. Yes her plan would work; she knew it would. All she needed was time and time was something she had plenty of.


	2. Chapter 2

Gwaine fought hard to stay strong, but even so his jaw trembled slightly as he and several other Knights rode up to the citadel of Camelot; stable boys taking the reins of the horses as soon as the Knights drew them to a halt. Calmly Gwaine dismounted and then reverently removed the wrapped body that had been on the back of his mount.

The body that was wrapped up in the blanket was Merlin; he knew it was. The body was burned beyond recognition, but even so the red scarf around the neck was unmistakable; that plus the raven head of hair which was almost completely burned off told Gwaine that without a doubt this was the body of his friend.

Slowly the Knight took the body inside. Gaius would want to see it, as would Arthur. He didn't want them to know but each of them needed to know.

Gaius saw a lone man riding into Camelot. It must be Gwaine, although he secretly hoped it had been Merlin. Gwaine and Merlin were the only missing people. He didn't know what had happened out there. Neither Arthur, nor any of the knights were willing nor did he want to talk. The physician didn't press them. They were all injured and weak from their time away.

He hurried out of his chambers and to the man. Noticing Gwaine's pallor, the physician frowned. "Gwaine, what happened," he asked; his tone was that of worry. "Where's Merlin?" He saw the bundle in the knight's arms, but he chose to ignore it.

Gwaine swallowed, not wanting to tell Gaius anything. How could he tell the physician that Merlin was gone? Gaius had asked where Merlin was. Surely he had seen the bundle but maybe it didn't enter the older man's mind that it could be his young pupil.

"I'm sorry Gaius, there was nothing I could do," Gwaine said, shifting the bundle in his arms half to get the cramps out and half to gesture to the physician that the thing in his arms was Merlin.

The older man frowned. A lump formed in his throat as his stomach clenched. He looked at the body in Gwaine's arms and merely nodded. "You need naught apologize, Gwaine," said the man in a quiet voice. "Morgana was involved, wasn't she? Little can be done when she is involved, as you have found out many times."

"He was already gone when I found him." It pained the knight to admit that he failed the warlock. Maybe if he had found the lad sooner he would still be alive. Maybe...maybe...I failed him."

Gaius placed a hand on the knight's shoulder and squeezed. "You did not fail him," the man said firmly. "The King is safe. He is alive. That would be all Merlin cared for. He would give up his life for Arthur, you know it and I know it. Arthur's living would be a success to Merlin."

"Come, let's take Merlin to my chambers so I may examine him and yourself," said Gaius. He could not bring himself to call Merlin a corpse or body. "Arthur is there. I just finished tending his wounds."

Gwaine didn't answer at first. Physically he felt fine, a little sore and tired perhaps, but it Gwaine didn't answer at first. Physically he felt fine, a little sore and tired perhaps, but it was nothing that a little sleep couldn't fix. He heaved a sigh, not wanting to face Arthur. It was hard enough having to tell Gaius. The next question would be how would Arthur react to the news? The King and his manservant had always been so very close. The knowledge that Merlin was gone - it would tear the King apart.

"Lead the way," Gwaine muttered, wanting Gaius to lead the way to his chambers.

Gaius nodded. He strode through the hall with deliberate steps. As he walked, the physician listened to Gwaine's slow and labored steps. They probably should've gotten a stretcher for Merlin, but they hadn't. It was too late now.

Soon enough, Gwaine and Gaius were at the physician's quarters. Opening the door, the old man entered. He left it open so Gwaine could carry the body in.

Wordlessly, he went over to Arthur's bed and knelt. The old man looked the King in the eyes. "Sire," Gaius began slowly. "Gwaine has returned. I afraid he comes bearing grievous news. Merlin…is dead."

The King had been lying down, his bare chest covered in bandages that were half way soaked through with his blood. He had been developing a small fever so Gwen had been by his side applying a cool, wet compress to his head. When Gaius had come in and knelt down, Gwen had removed the compress, but had to force Arthur to not try and sit up.

After the news came Gwen felt her husband inwardly sigh; his muscles seemingly giving out even as he lay there. "Are you certain?" Arthur asked, keeping his gaze focused on Gaius. It was Gwaine who spoke. He had placed the wrapped body on the nearby bed and was standing between it and Arthur.

"Yes Sire," he replied, "We're certain."

Arthur pursed his lips and nodded his head before looking away. It was clear he was having a hard time processing what he had just been told. He had just lost his one true friend. How the hell was he supposed to handle this?

Not liking the soiled clothes or the fever brewing in Arthur's weary body Gaius stood. He grabbed some clean gauze after making a tea of yarrow and willow. "Gwen, would you mind changing Arthur's bandages and could you get him to drink this, please," he asked the Queen as he sat them on a small table beside her. "I need to examine Gwaine and then Merlin's…body."

He went over to Gwaine and removed the man's borrowed tunic. He noted the bruising around the ribs and scratches. "Does anything hurt," the Physician asked. With tender fingers, he felt each rib.

Gwaine didn't even look at Gaius as the older man had begun his prodding. Instead, the knight had been watching his King and Queen. Gwen was busy trying to console Arthur, who was unresponsive and who was just staring at the wall to his left.

"No," Gwaine finally answered, "That thing I saw in the tunnels; whatever it was. It healed me. I don't know how." He wasn't sure he should have told the physician about the creature in the tunnels. It wasn't evil or mean whatever it was.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "I see," said the physician. "Whatever it was did a decent job. I am going to put some balm on the bruising, though." Going to his cupboards, he chose a mustard paste and got more gauze. Back at the knight's side, he rubbed a thin layer of the medicine around Gwaine's torso and covered it with the strips of gauze.

"Now, no heavy lifting or training for a week," he explained. "There's some stew on the fire if you're hungry and a cot to sleep on for the night."

Gwaine only nodded his head in response. He didn't particularly want to stay the night in the physician's chambers, but he knew if he tried to leave, Gaius would jump all over him and protest that his bruises needed time to heal, so with only a small sigh the brave knight ambled over to a cot that was on the other side of the room. He sat down on the edge of it with shoulders hunched and his gaze on the floor. How could he have failed Merlin so badly?

Gaius paid no attention to the knight, instead he went over to the wrapped body. Uncovering the form, he grimaced. The being was unrecognizable, except for the neckerchief. Untying it, the physician examined the cloth. The fabric wasn't quite as charred as the rest of the body. Shaking it off, he brought the neckerchief to Arthur. "Sire, would you…would you like Merlin's scarf," he asked.

Slowly, Arthur turned his head to look at Gaius. It was easy to tell from the way the King had his shoulders hunched and jaw set that he was trying his best not to be seen as weak, but the sheen in his eyes said otherwise. Gently, Arthur reached out his hand and took the slightly damaged neckerchief from the physician. Blue eyes studied the burn marks that seemed to be etched into the fabric as a weak and weary mind played back Merlin's last moments.

Merlin had yelled his name; had run towards him, but Morgana had used her magic to toss the younger man against the stone rocks. Why? Why had she further proceeded to torture the boy after he was dead?

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to get the sound of his best friend hitting the wall out of his mind but he couldn't stop the sounds nor the vision of Merlin splatting against the wall out of his head. His manservant hadn't hit the wall that hard. Surely it shouldn't have killed him, but maybe it wasn't the wall, but the impact with the ground that had snapped his neck or maybe he had hit his head harder than Arthur had thought.

Gaius sighed. The man felt very old right then. He also felt quite unsure of himself. His life felt empty without Merlin. He wanted to mourn his ward, but right then, Gaius couldn't. He had patients to tend to.

Feeling Arthur's forehead, the man felt the fever simmering beneath his skin. Picking up the cup filled with the fever reliever, Gaius pressed it against Arthur's lips. "Drink this, sire," he instructed. "And then, you must rest. I can give you a sleeping draught if you wish."

The King began to move his head away but stopped when he felt Gwen's soft, reassuring hands on his arm. He didn't want the medicine; didn't feel like he really deserved it. He had been so hell bent on rescuing his men that he didn't stop to think of the consequences of his actions.

"Arthur, you must drink it." Gwen murmured in a pleading voice. She was trying to be brave but there was no dismissing the hint of worry that was clear in her words.

"I should have...should have..." Arthur began to whisper but he was cut short by a soft shushing sound. "What has happened cannot be undone. Do not let Merlin's sacrifice be for nothing. Please, drink it." Gwen replied, taking the cup from Gaius and once again holding it to her husband's lips. Slowly blue eyes found hers and a moment of trust passed between husband and wife before Arthur slowly sipped on the liquid in the cup.

"There was nothing you could have done, sire. You know how Morgana can be. Now, rest. Every one of you, rest," declared Gaius. "I sleep with one ear open at all times, so I don't want to hear anyone up and about. You hear me?" He looked at the group and raised with a frown and raised eyebrows. It was a look of pure business.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin woke, blurry-eyed and confused. Hearing distant screams of mandrakes, the warlock covered his ears as he glanced around the dark room. Sitting up, the warlock regretted it instantly His head swam and ached. To keep himself from falling and smacking his head on the stone floor, Merlin braced himself and closed his eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked around and spotted an older, blond-haired man.

"Who are you? Where am I? Who am I," he asked. Merlin hoped the man knew. It would make things a little easier (or he hoped it would). "Why am I here?"

Tristan looked up at Merlin. With sad eyes, he sighed. The young man seemed lost and confused. He also had a lot of questions. Standing from his seated position on the floor, Tristan left the room. Closing the door, he went to find Morgana in the throne room.

"Milady, he's awake," Tristan said, after bowing to her. "He's also asking questions and doesn't seem to remember his name. I didn't know what to tell him, so I came to find you at once."

Morgana sat there in the jet black colored throne, dark eyes intently focused on Tristan. This outcome, while unexpected was a welcome one. Perhaps it would help to bring down her dear brother once and for all.

"You have done well Tristan," Morgana began as she rose up from the throne. Swiftly she collected her fur lined blanket and her as of yet untouched meal which consisted of two chicken legs, some vegetables, and several apple slices, which she had just cut, as well as a glass of water.

I did nothing," he replied. Cautiously, the man took a step back so she could have a bit more room to move around. "I just came to you. I thought it would be best."

Handing the food and drink to Tristan, Morgana then left the room, indicating that the older gentleman should follow her. The sorceress had a plan. If Merlin's memory was completely gone then she could reshape the sorcerer's mind and bend him to her will. While she would never be able to harness his power into her own, if she did things the right way then hopefully she wouldn't have to. Hopefully Merlin would destroy Arthur of his own free will.

Tristan took the food. He looked at it and wondered what she had in store. Sighing wearily, he followed Morgana after a minute. He hoped her plan, whatever it was, would not be detrimental or cost many lives. However, he feared that wouldn't be the case.

Tristan wasn't entirely sure he had made the right decision to join Morgana. The man had thought it would be a great way to keep an eye on her. But, maybe he could do some good. Maybe he could protect Merlin from whatever Morgana decided to do.

Walking down several flights of stairs, Morgana arrived at a closed door. With just the briefest use of magic the door opened and Morgana strode in to the room, immediately laying eyes on Merlin. The lad looked sad, confused and pathetic and for the briefest of moments it caused Morgana's heart to bleed. Once upon a time she actually respected the boy in front of her. Now she actually felt sorry for him.

Approaching Merlin, Morgana knelt down next to him, her face filled with worry and concern. "It is alright Merlin, you are safe here, you are among friends and family. No one can harm you here." Even as she spoke, the High Priestess took the blanket that was in her hands, unfolded it and then wrapped it around Merlin's shoulders.

He had heard the door open, but hadn't moved. If the person wanted him, they'd talk. The warlock just wanted to disappear or wake up from this nightmare. Yes, this place felt like a horrible dream. Merlin didn't think he would wake up though – this seemed to be real enough. So, he sat there, with his hands clasped over his ears, shivering, and wide eyed.

Hearing his name, albeit it was muffled, he looked up. "Is that my name? Who are you? Where am I? Why I here? Why does my head hurt? Why wouldn't the blond man answer me," he asked in a rush. "And can you stop the screaming? My head hurts. I want to go home."

His brow was puckered. His lips were curled under into a quacking frown. It was as if he was trying not to cry.

When Morgana put the blanket around his shoulders, he moved it so the cloth was around his head too. He pulled it close to his ears and was relieved to find it worked even better to muffle the mandrake cries.

"Please, tell me. I don't understand," he asked again. His voice was high with fright.

Morgana had to fight hard not to laugh. The warlock's facial expressions and his childish whining were quite comical, but it would not do to laugh. No, she had to gain Merlin's trust and to do that she had to make the younger man believe that she actually cared, and to do that she had to act concerned.

Without even breaking her gaze Morgana used her power to silence the mandrake's cries. Since she had created the enchantment she did have power over the mandrakes; it was a little something her sister Morgause had taught her all those years ago.

Merlin sighed. That was better. It was a relief not to hear the screaming. The sounds had been unsettling and scary. He gave Morgana a grateful smile as he removed his hands from his ears. "Thank you," mumbled the warlock.

"My name is Morgana and your name is Merlin," the High Priestess began as she took hold of the warlock's icy hands in a comforting manner. "You are here because my friend Tristan," she indicated the blond man behind her, "rescued you from the grasp of a very evil man who was bent on destroying you. You were very badly hurt and you haven't fully healed which is why your head hurts."

Merlin blinked as he tried to concentrate and remember what the woman had said. "Okay," he whispered. "I might ask again. Everything's pretty fuzzy." When she gestured to the older man, Merlin looked at him.

"Thank you," said Merlin, to which Tristan merely nodded. After a moment, the dark-

"Did I deserve his wrath," asked Merlin', playing with Morgana's fingers. "Why would I need destroyed? Did I do something wrong?"

Morgana sadly smiled as she waited the appropriate amount of time before responding to the Warlock's question. "No Merlin," she said, "You didn't do anything wrong. Quite the opposite in fact. You did something right. You are special...like I am. We both possess a power that many don't and some even fear...like the man you were staying with. He was so afraid of it and you that he tried to kill you."

Merlin looked down at the stone floor. It wasn't interesting, but it was easier to look at. For some reason, he felt ashamed of himself for who he was. Was this woman just protecting his feelings and he had done something wrong? Merlin couldn't remember doing anything, but that didn't mean much.

"Are you sure? I feel...I feel bad. I don't feel special," Merlin whispered. "I don't understand. If I have a special gift that's good? Why kill me? I'm confused."

Morgana looked behind her and then held out her hands, taking the plate of food and the drink from Tristan's hands. "You must be hungry, please...eat," she said as she placed the food and drink down in front of Merlin. As Morgana waited for her prey to start to eat she decided to continue on with her well thought out lie.

"I guess I am," replied Merlin. He stared at the food before him warily before selecting a chicken leg and biting into it. "Why don't you eat too? I don't want it all. Take half, please."

Smiling, Morgana nodded and then delicately snatched one of the apple slices off of the plate and bit in to it, savoring the sweet and tangy juices that came from the red fruit. Apples were by far her favorite fruit in the entire world. She could never get her fill of them. After swallowing what was in her mouth she said, "I know you must want to return home right now Merlin but I can't let you do that. It is not safe for either of us and I would be a poor sister indeed if I allowed my little brother to go running back towards the man who tried to kill him."

"This isn't home," Merlin asked, looking around the room. "Where is home? Where do I come from? Who are my...our parents?"

His frown deepened. "Was the man who hurt me our father? And why would I go back to him? I am confused," Merlin prattled.

"Our real parents died when we were babies but we were adopted by a Knight of Camelot; Gorlois, and his wife Vivianne. They became our parents and they loved us greatly. One day Gorlois was murdered by the King of Camelot, Uther was his name and it was Uther who took me in after that. I didn't want to go with him but I had no choice. Mother took you and fled Camelot and left me to fend for myself. Years later you returned to Camelot all grown up. At first I didn't recognize you but when I met you...I knew it was you...I knew it was my baby brother."

"Where did I live? What was mother like? How could you convince her to leave without you? Why didn't she become a servant in the castle or marry this Uther? This is all too much," Merlin fussed. He was feeling overwhelmed. It was making him feel panicked.

Morgana paused long enough to wipe tears from her eyes. Even she had to admit that she was a great storyteller and that if she wasn't making the story up she might have even believed it!

"During a party you saved the life of the King's son, Arthur and for that the King decided to reward you. He didn't give you gold or jewels. No, he made you a servant to his son. Arthur treated you horribly even though I tried to make him stop. Then...one day...you revealed to Arthur that you had magic...and he tried to kill you. Magic is banned in Camelot and all those that possess it are killed. When I found out what Arthur tried to do to you, I went to you and we both ran away from Camelot together. We've been living on the run ever since, though from time to time you talked about going back to make Arthur see reason..."

Morgana knew that she skipped the last several years. Uther was already dead and Gwen was Queen and Arthur was the King now and had been for quite some time...but Merlin didn't need to know that!

Merlin frowned. There were so many details! It was making his head hurt and his stomach churn. The warlock pushed the food away. "I'm not hungry," he said. "May I got to sleep? My head hurts and my stomach doesn't feel well. I don't think I should eat."

"Yes of course!" Morgana said, brushing some of Merlin's hair back. She was playing the sympathy card for all she was worth and it looked like Merlin was buying it, hook line and sinker! "Come with me." Morgana helped the warlock to stand and led him out of the room. She already had a bedroom set up for him, having guessed he would want some sleep. Oh he would sleep! Morgana had placed a mandrake root under the bed which wouldn't start to affect Merlin until he fell asleep. She didn't want him to notice it while he was still awake.

The warlock's smile turned into a small, uncertain smile. "Thank you," he replied. After a moment, he added, "Sister."

Without questioning her, Merlin followed her. He kept his half-mast eyes straight ahead; the warlock was too tired to look around. In fact, he was so sleepy, Merlin figured he could've slept where he had been sitting.

Coming to the bedroom, Merlin stepped in. With an unstable gait, the warlock headed to the bed. Laying down, he closed his eyes and knew no more for the night.


End file.
